


A Piece of Cake

by shuns



Series: shuns Death by Quill Entries [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And vaginal fingering, Banter ... so much banter, Beatrice and Benedict, Because Much Ado About Nothing is kind of a big deal, Bella's Wedding, But the cake is important, F/M, Origin Story - Of Draco's Hat, She's a Bridezilla, TBH are you surprised, and cake, lucissa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 00:12:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18354614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shuns/pseuds/shuns
Summary: Standing on the precipice of adulthood, Narcissa Black contends with dreams and reality, heroes and villains, even life and death, and then there is the not so small matter of Bellatrix's wedding. Growing up might not beA Piece of Cake.





	A Piece of Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2019Round2](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2019Round2) collection. 



> Heaps of thanks for my beta and alpha, you know who you are. Without your diligence this story would now be 10,000 words long and mostly run-on sentences.

* * *

Weddings were a nightmare, but she still dreamed of being a bride. 

Up at dawn, Narcissa drew Bella’s ritual bath of spring water while the bride screeched about the temperature. Then she and Andromeda combed and plaited Bella’s hair, dodging stinging jinxes when they tugged too hard. Bella's robes were layers of shimmering silk in shades of green, secured by 752 buttons all impervious to magic. They stood during the two-hour ceremony followed another hour of standing while the ‘right’ half of Wizarding Britain passed through the receiving line into Castle Black’s Grand Ballroom, graciously loaned by Uncle Arcturus. The Castle’s wards kept the rabble - _Mudbloods_ \- out. Narcissa finally sat down, but only for a moment. Andromeda had vanished, and Mother was indisposed, as she had been for the last decade; someone needed to deal with the damage done by Sirius and Regulus' grubby fingers to bride’s cake icing before Bella found out.

For all the bother, did her sister make sure the bridesmaids' robes were comfortable and stylish? No, because it was _Bella’s_ wedding. Instead of a large dowry, Bella’s purity, well blood purity at least, was her worth. She had traced their family to a mage from ancient Thrace, now Bulgaria. Her bridesmaids would honor Bendis, goddess of the hunt. “You’ll love your outfits. They’re Thracian,” she’d said. “You’ll wear them again and again.”

_Lies._

They looked like huntsmen. Heeled, lace-up sandals, green leather jerkins and breeches, and fox fur hats - _for a June wedding_. Bella misheard Andromeda’s assessment, ‘How vulgarian.”

“Not Bulgarian - _THRACIAN_!”

In the following weeks, they worked Bulgaria into every conversation, until Bella started hexing off hanks of hair. She couldn't take a joke. 

As the youngest sister, all Narcissa’s robes were hand-me-downs, but she would never wear this _ensemble_ again, and only a poncy git would don a hat like that. Her secret comfort was Andromeda also looked terrible. She’d put on some weight recently, not that Narcissa would say anything about it. She was so moody.

But the spear was a nice touch. And if anyone else bothered her today, she was using it.

“Ah, Baby Black, there you are.”

 _Definitely, using it._ “Mal-foy.” She imbued years of loathing into the two syllables.

“I had thought to ask you for a dance. Though it appears you have beaten off any wizards with that stick.” He raked his eyes down her body. “Or perhaps it’s your attire that is off-putting. Can you dance in _that._ ”

She would have skewered him if he wasn’t Andromeda’s friend. “I can dance. But not with you. Never with you.”

“You wound me, mademoiselle,” he pouted.

“That is the point,” she said, nodding toward her spear.

“Touché, your tongue has barbs. But I expected nothing less from a spinster on her sister’s wedding day.”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him behind a pillar. “Who told you that?” she hissed. She had cried for a week at Yule when Father said she had no husband in her future, and they couldn’t afford another dowry. Bella’s wedding had emptied the vault. Andromeda had gotten lucky with Lord Nott. She had nothing but dreams and lies. She'd spread a story Father was waiting for her graduation before betrothing her.

“It’s true then? Your father won’t let you marry because he can’t afford to?” he whispered.

Resigned to her fate, “Yes. Now _tell_.”

“It was your father.”

“What? Why?”

Malfoy paused. “I approached him about a betrothal.”

“With whom? Andromeda? She’s Lord Nott’s; you know that. Wait, you don’t mean _me?_   Was I your second choice?” She sneered.

He looked away, spots of color high on his cheeks.

“Circe, Morgana, and Nimue, Malfoy! Even if I could be married, it wouldn’t be for you. You wouldn’t be my first, second, or even eighty-fifth choice.”

Hurt crossed his face before he caught himself. “My apologies, Miss Black, for offending you. I had no idea that hand-me-down brides with no dowries were picky about their suitors.” He gave a curt bow and strode away quickly.

Narcissa tried to feel bad about rejecting Malfoy so harshly. They had been friends, well, friendly, since she and Andromeda had pulled Darius Flint off of a seven-year-old Malfoy, saving him from a probably well-deserved beating. After that, Malfoy decided they were his friends. He treated Andromeda like a queen.

But she was a peasant. Nothing Narcissa did was right. He jeered her worn robes, then taunted her at Yule with new ones, _every year_. He snatched her school assignments, marking every little thing wrong, so she had to do start over. He was always watching her, no doubt waiting for her next slip-up.

What a villain.

* * *

She’d walked the perimeter of the party twice looking for Andromeda when she gave up and used a point-me charm. She heard a giggle from below the balcony. Narcissa saw a bush shaking. “Meda, you'll never guess -Andromeda Black! Do up your breeches! This isn’t Knockturn Alley!”

Andromeda’s leather jerkin was pushed up, exposing her breasts, and her breeches were loose to accommodate the hand shoved down their front. Dark arms spun her sister behind him, and Narcissa was facing a sweaty, frustrated Kingsley Shacklebolt. She cast a silencing spell on him before he even opened his mouth.

She was surprised to find Andromeda with him. He was friends with that mudblood ‘Puff Andromeda had gone on and on about. Father had ended it quickly. Death threats tend to have that effect.

“Shacklebolt, my sister will not be huffled by some ‘Puff. Meda, are you alright? Did he use a potion or a curse on you?” She reached for Andromeda.

“Cissa now is _not_ the time,” hissed Andromeda, shrinking behind Kingsley. “Go. Away.“

“Did you learn nothing from Bella? At least she and Rodolphus had the good sense to do it indoors. Shagging in the shrubbery is crass. Sweet Nimue, you’ll ruin your chances with Lord Nott.”

Andromeda pushed past the still silent Kingsley, sneering, “I don’t want him! He’s Father’s age. If you like him, why don’t you marry him!”

Narcissa’s face fell. Andromeda’s eyes went wide when she realized what she’d said. “Oh, Cissa, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

She glared at her fortunate sister. “Yes, you did. Enjoy your tryst, harlot. I’ll just let Father and Lord Nott know where you are.” She turned to leave.

Andromeda gasped, “No, don't!”

She would if it meant she could leave their tiny house where Mother drank herself into dreamland on fairy tears, and Father watched her every move, thanks to Bella and Andromeda's indiscretions. But she made the mistake of looking at Andromeda. A hundred thousand hours of giggles, gasps, and groans - their shared experience of growing up Black - had made them more than family. They were friends.

Narcissa sighed, “Fine, I won’t. But I want three new robes and two new pairs of shoes. Never worn by you or Bella. No hand-me-downs.”

“Done. Now cancel the charm on Ted-uh-Kingsley.”

Something was off; she had given in too quickly. Andromeda pushed her out of the bush, probably trying to distract Kingsley from the name mix-up.  _Meda, get over him, already_.

Narcissa canceled the charm and walked back to the party. Hopeful no one noticed her absence. But he had.

* * *

She felt someone behind her and turned too quickly. Stumbling into a solid chest, she was caught by strong arms. She looked up and saw - silver hair. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Where were you?” Malfoy demanded.

Narcissa didn't like his tone and turned to leave, but his grip was too strong. She looked up at him, and she realized she was _looking up_. He was taller and broader than she remembered. _When had that happened?_   Still, he was no match for her wand. She was reaching for it when Lord Nott appeared over Malfoy’s shoulder. Now, he was the stuff of dreams; rich, older, urbane, and _powerful_.

“Miss Black. I was hoping to find you. May I have this dance?” And he was rescuing her from Malfoy? _My hero!_

Lucius laughed and tucked her hand into his elbow, “I’m afraid you are too late. Miss Black has already agreed to partner with me.” Narcissa glared at him, hoping intent was enough to kill.

Lord Nott, the perfect gentleman, nodded. “Perhaps later? I would love to learn more about darling Andromeda from her dearest sister.”

Malfoy smothered a snort. Narcissa bowed to Lord Nott then swept to the dance floor like she was in her finest gown. The opening strains of the French Waltz swelled. She steeled herself if this was like the summer dance lessons Malfoy had dragged the sisters to, endurance was key. His hand settled at her waist, and they began to spin.

“You shouldn't be so obvious,” he chastised.

“Oh, we’re talking? I was hoping we could just _not_.”

“He wouldn’t be good for you. Nott thinks about three things: galleons, sickles, and knuts.”

Narcissa grimaced. “I happen to like that about him.” The last time Lord Nott had dined with them, she’d been fascinated by his work at Gringotts as _Stallari,_ or marshal of funds, the highest non-goblin position. Until Malfoy ruined it, he bumped her arm and landed her soup dish in her lap. His _tergeo_  backfired, shrinking her robes. Then a button popped, exposing her decolletage. She’d hid in her room for the rest of the night. Through the door, Andromeda assured her you could not die of shame. Narcissa thought she came very close.

She smiled. “Jealous, Malfoy? At least he is capable of thoughts. Plural, as in, more than one.”

With the dance's third formation, she spun away from Malfoy and was delighted to meet her new partner, Lord Nott. “We get to dance after all. I’m looking forward to the improved quality of after-dinner conversation, and now we are to be family.”

He smiled and lifted her in the air. “Indeed, Miss Black. Your family is blessed by Morgana to have such lovely witches like your sister and yourself. I would have approached you sooner, but I saw you conversing with young Malfoy. I didn’t want to impose.”

She quirked a brow. “Please impose. You know the saying, ‘two curses don’t make a charm’? They were describing him.” She wanted to call Malfoy an arse, but Lord Nott was a Knight of the Inner Circle, a friend of Abraxas Malfoy, and she was a _damn_ lady.

He laughed at her quip as they joined hands for the final turn. “You know, Miss Black. When I approached your father about a betrothal, I wasn’t sure which of his daughters he might be willing to part with. I was dismayed when my original offer was rejected.”

“Oh?”

He nodded gravely. “Yes. I knew which sister I wanted after that first dinner.”

“W-was it, Andromeda?”

“No, I find the stars too distant. I prefer an earthbound beauty. Someone who reminds this old man of the joys of spring.” He locked eyes with her. Narcissa’s breath came in shallow pants. _So this is how men make love._ “Perhaps you know of such a witch. Maybe you see her every day - in the mirror.”

The pace quickened, and she twirled back into Malfoy’s arms too soon. “Miss me?” She said nothing. Her brain was fizzing after talking to Lord Nott. As the last strains of the song quieted, she and Malfoy stood facing each other palm to palm. Malfoy roused her from her thoughts, “Miss Black, the dance has ended.”

“Our torture is over. I can almost hear Madame Helena giving notes. ‘Chin higher, Young Malfoy. Bloom, Miss Black, like the flower you are named for,’” she shrilled as their dance mistress had.

He chuckled and tucked her arm into his, “You're getting better. I still have feeling in my toes.” He guided her to a bench by the wall. He leaned casually against one of the ballroom’s pillars, but his face was tight. “You weren’t my second choice. Nor will you ever be.”

“This is when you say ‘ _just kidding’_ and tell me I’m just a common girl?” She knew his jibes well.

He stared at her long enough for it to be uncomfortable, then smiled and brought her fingers to his lips. “Oh, do not malign this poor flower as common. Uncommon is the best way to describe her.” He bowed and walked away.

_Did Malfoy just flirt with me?_

Her head swam. Two betrothals, both rejected? Her Father was going to hear about this, right before she murdered him. 

* * *

She found Father in his study. “He offered for me, and you said no,” she hissed.

Cygnus Black quirked his brow. “Which one?”

“The one that matters,” she huffed. “Lord Nott.”

He opened a drawer and pulled out a pile of scrolls. “These are all offers for your hand.” Narcissa was aghast. “Lord Nott isn’t special. They all want a dowry.” He scoffed then incinerated them with a swish of his wand.

Narcissa let out an anguished cry as the ash fell on the desk.

He summoned a bottle of wine and two glasses, then poured one for each of them. “I watched my first daughter throw herself away on a French brute who demanded triple the dowry we offered. If we hadn’t paid, Bella would have been ruined with our family’s reputation. I borrowed from that scoundrel Nott to cover the cost of the wedding and dowry. His price was either you or Andromeda. After Andromeda’s troubles this year with that _filth_ , I was it fortunate he was still interested in her.”

“What about me?” pleaded Narcissa, “You just burned all the proposals, gave Lord Nott Andromeda, and even refused Malfoy, not that I want to marry him.”

He slammed his glass down as his magic unfurled, angrily. “Yes, let’s talk about why you wouldn’t want to marry the heir to the largest fortune in Britain. Or how you sneer at him and his gifts. Yet he still professes his love. This morning he was in your chair asking, again, for my consent to marry you. He’s the only one who bothered to _ask_. Nott _demanded,_ and Rodolphus just _grunted._ ”

His eyes were flinty. “Lucius has approached me eight times. _Eight_ , Narcissa. He started when he was seven, the day you and Andromeda fought off the Flint boy. He walked in here and told me he owed you both his life, so he wanted to marry you and Andromeda. I talked him around to just being friends. He approached me again when he was eleven. He missed you that first year at Hogwarts. So I told him to take care of you that love would grow in time. He has asked every summer since then, including this morning. He even dropped the dowry clause.”

Narcissa's chest tightened. “Then why refuse him?”

He sighed, “You’ve made your animosity clear. I like the boy. I won’t let him break his heart.” He picked his glass up and swirled it thoughtfully. “He’s taken the Mark, Narcissa. War is coming. He will fight to protect you, me, Magic, and our way of life. He’s a wizard worth loving, a true hero. But if you can’t love him back, better he forgets you, like a dream upon waking.”

* * *

Narcissa sat on her bed, brushing her hair, still thinking about what Father had said when Andromeda burst into the room. “Surprise!” She thrust a plate of cake into Narcissa’s hand. “You missed the cake cutting. I thought you might want some.”

She mumbled her, thanks.

Andromeda pouted, “You could be a bit more appreciative. I had to fight Aunt Cassie for the last piece. She told me if she put it under her pillow, dream magic would reveal her husband.”

Narcissa rolled her eyes. “I’ve never heard of using cake to divine the future. Though you have to admire Aunt Cassie, fifty-eight and still husband-hunting, she doesn’t give up.”

“I don’t think you should either,” she whispered. Then she hugged Narcissa tightly like she didn’t want to let go.

Deciding magic made stranger things happen, Narcissa put a stasis charm on the plate and placed it under her pillow. If nothing else, she had a midnight snack.

* * *

_She awoke in the moonlight to a hand at her waist. No longer in her nightgown, a warm body pressed against her back and breath stirred her hair._

_The hand moved from her waist to stroke up her side. A mouth close to her ear, soft lips on the lobe, then small kisses. “Wife.” His hand palmed her breast then fingers plucked her nipple to a hard peak._

_“Husband?”_

_“Don’t you recognize me? Shall I remind you?” He pulled her closer to him._

_She tried to turn and see his face. “No, you woke me from a dream. Do you need me?”_

_He buried his face in her hair and nuzzled her neck. His hand moved to her belly, stroking softly. He chuckled quietly. “Always.”_

_She still couldn’t see him. He thrust something long and hard into her lower back. She gasped._

_His hand traveled between her legs, past the curls to her sex, warm and wet with anticipation. He made lazy circles at the top with two fingers, rubbing the most sensitive spot just a bit more each time. Her breath quickened as his fingers worked her. With every stroke, something deep in her belly began to burn and tighten. She arched into him, wanting more._

_“Maybe you dreamt of another man. Did your dream man know how to touch you? Make you moan? You once told me that I wasn't even your eighty-fifth choice. Here you are, panting for my touch.” He sat up and leaned over her, his pale hair silver in the moonlight. “Would you choose me now?”_

_She moaned, “Yes, Lucius, please.”_

_“How can I refuse you, when you beg so prettily?” He lifted the leg nearest him and rolled her on her back. He was naked and kneeling between her legs. He pressed on her thighs, opening them. “The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, shall I Slytherin?”_

Narcissa woke up laughing.

She looked around to find her bed empty and her nightgown in place. She hadn’t expected Lucius Malfoy in her dreams. She had never seen him so sensual, so wicked. Medawas going to die with laughter _._ She had to tell her about the dream, _right now_. She hopped out of bed and found her dressing gown and slippers.

The cake! She lifted her pillow to see if the cake was there. It was. They could split it while they discussed her dream. She ran to Andromeda’s room and threw open the door, then took a running jump to land in - an empty bed? _Where is Andromeda?_ A letter crinkled under her.

_Dear Cissa,_

_I wish I could be here for you when you read this and tell you it will be fine. That we will be together, someday._

_I’m in love, Cissa, and he loves me back. We are going to be a family. I’m pregnant with Ted’s baby. He sneaked into the party polyjuiced as Kingsley to cross the wards. When I told him about the baby, he said, ‘Marry me.’ By the time you read this, I’ll be Mrs.Tonks. Please be happy for me._

Narcissa stared out the window at the rising sun. The dawn seemed colder, harsher today. It put her choices in stark relief.  

Narcissa could raise the alarm. Her uncles and Father would bring her back. They would kill the baby, probably Andromeda too for the dishonor. With the betrothal broken, Nott would call in the loans for Bella’s wedding. As little better than a distaff branch of the family, Uncle Arcturus wouldn't help. She would be offered in place of Andromeda to Nott to prevent Father's financial ruin. 

Or not.

She incinerated the letter with a snap of her fingers. Andromeda had a head start. The rest depended on Lucius. _Was he really a hero?_

Uncle Arcturus had invited _select_ guests to stay. Lucius hadn’t even put up wards on his room. Was he hoping for company? He was sprawled across the bed on his stomach, naked.  She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what to do next. _Is_   _it_   _still seduction if he wants it?_

Even sleep mussed, Lucius was beautiful. She moved a piece of hair from his face. His hand caught her arm. “Good Morning, Baby Black. I would invite you to join me in bed, but it seems you already have.” he griped sleepily.

She didn't know how to start, then she realized she still had the plate. “I thought you might like to share some cake while we talked. I had the strangest dream last night, Lucius.” She leveled her gaze at him. “And you were in it.”

“Oh?” He smirked. He rolled on his side to reveal all of himself. “Do tell me more.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N(s): In my head Narcissa’s bridesmaid hat is the one Draco wears when Ron calls him a poncey git in year three. Draco found it in the attic. He thought it was a relic from a particularly fierce Corsair ancestor. He continues to wear it in the following winters, until Bella breaks out of Azkaban in year five. She laughs when she sees him with it on and tells him it was part of his mother’s bridesmaid outfit. Draco is furious and never wears it again - I think he burned the hat. 
> 
> I read widely. I came across 'it takes two curses to make a charm' in another story. I loved that line so much, when I needed yet another zinger for Narcissa, it sprang to mind. I moved some words around, but the original line/idea is someone else's. I wish I could recall story/author, because I am sure she (it has to be a she) is brilliant. If you know the story, comment and I will add a link.
> 
> I’d like to think the Chamber of Secrets/Slytherin line was all me. But I’m sure a meme or GIF exists somewhere of that as well.


End file.
